


Beautiful Life

by Skyepilot



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Clubbing, Dancing, F/M, Inhumans (Marvel), Kissing, Love Confessions, Making Out, Missions Gone Wrong, Music, Superpowers, basically a sex pollen fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4877968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/pseuds/Skyepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skye and Coulson in the club when a mission goes sideways. I'm not even sure what this is, it's fluffy nonsense is what it is.  And I had a lot of fun writing it.  Title from the Ace of Base song XD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Life

“Where did he go?” she mutters to herself, glancing around.

She’s been standing at the bar here for ten minutes, scoping out the room.  Trying to feel out what’s going on, but there are too many…

Vibrations.

The music just got _louder_ , and the place is getting packed. 

Basement bar, big DJ, and someone gave them a tip that an Inhuman might be frequenting it.

While she trusts the source, she’s not sure they have the right information.

“Better call the Fire Marshall,” she jokes to the bartender in passing, tapping the toe of her boot against the wood base of the bar.

The woman just curls her lip and continues mixing cocktails.

Then she spots him, in the middle of the crowd.

She narrows her eyes just to make sure she’s seeing what she _thinks_ she seeing, but it’s difficult between the low light and all the noise.

Is he _dancing_?

Getting up from her stool, she pushes her way through the crowd to find Coulson in the middle of the dancefloor.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Blending in,” he says, glistening a little.

“We’re supposed to be looking for someone, remember?”

“I am,” he says, glancing past her. “Keeping my eyes peeled, and my booty shaking.”

She refuses to laugh, even though she kind of wants to. 

It will only encourage him.

“The last time I danced to this song,” he starts, a searching, nostalgic look on his face.

“Let me guess-“

“The Academy,” they say at the same time.

He smiles shyly. “Yeah.  The Smiths?  This DJ is really good, right?”

“Spotted him yet?” she says, ignoring the question, peering over his shoulder.

“Who?” he asks, blankly, as she raises her eyebrows.  “Just kidding…”

She opens her mouth to say something and feels a hand on her backside.

“Hey!” she says, turning.

“Don’t look at me,” he says, raising his hands as she looks back to him with a glare.

She’s over this.

“What is going on?” she wonders, as someone pushes against her from behind, forcing her closer to her clubbing boss.

“C’mon,” he teases. “Didn’t you ever dance?”

“ _Not_ my scene,” she says, separating them with her hand.  “Exactly...”

There’s an anxious feeling building in her.  She stares around the room.

“The temperature just went up in here, right?” she asks, pulling her shirt away from her chest. 

It’s sticking to her.

This is getting annoying.  _More_ annoying.

She wanted him on this op because she _thought_ he wouldn’t get distracted.  And here he is, Mr. Distracted and Mr. Not Cool and Collected.

“It _is_ kinda… _hot_ , now that you mention it,” he replies, and starts to slowly peel off his light jacket to the beat.

“What? No!” she orders.  “Do not-”

He does anyway and ties it around his waist, as bodies shove in closer to them.

“I’m feeling-“

She takes a deep breath, wanting to taste more air.

Instead of sweat, and humidity.

“Hey,” he says, touching her shoulder, a concerned look on his face. “I’ve got you.”

She nods and feels more people pressing into her from behind.

Maybe it’s what happened in the Temple, that feeling coming back, but, she doesn’t want to have a panic attack. Not in this basement club, with people all around.

Shoving her jacket quickly down her arms, pushing at bodies, she ties it around her waist, feels a moment of relief, and shuts her eyes.

God, she wants that music to stop, right? 

She should just vibrate the speakers, and loosen a wire or something.

Oh, shit. 

 _This_ song.

It was one of her favorites.  They used to play it at St. Agnes, on that donated CD player, when the nuns were in bed.

Foster parent contraband was always the best.

Until they found them all dancing on the mattresses that one night and playing kissing games and confiscated it.

She opens her eyes, chuckles, and sees Coulson’s face looking down at her.

He’s pretty sweaty.

And pretty.

Pretty, sweaty Coulson.

Something…something isn’t right. Right?

They should call Mack.  He can fix this.

“Why are you smiling like that?” he asks her, taking a long look at his hand on her bare arm.

“I was just thinking about, something.”

“We should call Mack,” he grins, drops his hand.  “This isn’t normal.”      

“Those nuns owe me an Ace of Base CD, okay!” she says, really loudly, watching his head jerk back.

“Nuns?” he says, his smile getting wider.

“We should get Mack,” he repeats, and squeezes his arm down towards his jeans.

The music changes.

“Oh, dammit! I love this song!”

His hands move back up, until they’re over his head.

“You’re so sweaty,” she says, looking at the circles underneath his arms.

“So are you,” he answers, like he’s taunting her.

She brushes sweat-stuck strands of her hair from her face and realizes she’s touching him, moving along to the beat.

When did _that_ happen?  And where else is she supposed to put her hands right now?

It’s _not_ her fault.

“This song,” he says, shaking his head, biting his lower lip.  

“What?” she asks.

“Everyone at the Academy made out to this song,” he tells her matter-of-factly, over the music.

“That’s so weird,” she laughs.

“Why?”

“You don’t ever make out with anyone.”

He raises an eyebrow.  “I made out with a lot of people.”

“People?” she smiles. “We never talk about this stuff.”

“That’s because we work together,” he says, bringing his face closer to hers to smirk.

“We have a working relationship,” she replies, tipping her chin up at him until it touches his.

“Right,” he answers, as she feels his hands land softly on her hips, guiding her.

“This doesn’t feel like a working relationship,” she says, pressing her tongue against her teeth.

“We should call Mack.  _Immediately_ ,” he replies.

And he’s looking her face up and down, like he’s trying to work something out.

“After Prince is done,” she says, sliding her arms past his shoulders.

She wants to hear more about his secrets, about his past.

She just wants… _more_.

“Yes. Immediately after.”

And even with bodies pressed up against them she knows it’s his hands on her now, and her mouth against his.

Why haven’t they done this before?

He’s a _really_ good kisser. 

He should get a gold star. Coulson’s pretty much good at whatever he sets his mind to.

She likes that about him.

She likes that _so much_ about him right now.

Their mouths part, and she peers at him, her hand twisted in his wet t-shirt.

“I might have some serious feelings for you,” he confesses over the music.

“Yeah, I get that,” she answers, pulling him into her so that she can have him again.

Wow. All tongue, too.

“Daisy.”

He pants it against her mouth, almost kisses her again, and then stops.

“We should go.”

“Go? Where?"

“Run.”

She knows what he wants. 

This. Without SHIELD.  Without these complications.

“Yes,” she agrees, watching his eyes brighten.

Then, the power goes out.

 

###

 

“Sure glad I was here for backup,” Mack sighs.

He stares back at them, his arms crossed.  Shakes his head.

They’re sitting on an empty bench, in the now empty club.

“I know I’m not in charge of this op,” he starts in. “But, I have to say-“

Coulson opens his mouth to reply, and Mack raises a finger.

He closes it.

“Not your most professional moment.”

“It was the DJ!” she says, starting to stand.

“Yeah, blame it on the DJ,” Mack answers, rolling his eyes.

She huffs and sits back down.

“Who, we have in custody,” he reminds her.

They both seem relieved, sighing at the same time.

Because at least they didn’t blow the op.

“And I guess in my field report, which,” he goes on, gesturing towards Coulson. “You can read tomorrow?”

“So there were no recording devices,” Coulson presses.

“Oh, no,” Mack replies. “My eyes recorded some stuff, Director, don’t get me wrong.”

“These things… _happen_ ,” she interjected.

“I guess they do,” Mack said, pursing his lips. “You guys should probably work out your stories while I go talk to Hunter.”

Mack crossed the room and walked up the basement steps until he reached the van, holding his laugh in.

He closed the door and sat down next to Hunter at the console.

“They were on each other, just like the rest, weren’t they?”

“To ‘Little Red Corvette’,” Mack answered, chuckling, watching Hunter laugh, then clap his hands together.

“No, but seriously,” he asked, going back to scanning through the club’s camera footage.

“I’m not joking,” Mack replied.  “Never look at Lola the same way again.”

“I can’t wait to get to that part.”

“The lights went out for a reason,” Mack said, hitting a button that shut the monitor off.

“Killjoy,” Hunter answered under his breath and turned in his chair.  “Dangerous powers.”

“Something with sonic frequency, suggestion. At least, according to the readings we sent Bobbi.”

“At least he was just filling up the dance floor and not playing HYDRA's greatest hits.”

“I seem to remember you and Bobbi getting pretty down and dirty to a few songs, now that you mention it," Mack grinned. "That bar in Jakarta.”

“Yes, but we weren’t in a state of denial,” he answered, drolly. “Are they okay?”

“They’ll talk it out.”

 

###

 

“Sonic hypnosis.  Pretty powerful stuff.”

“Uh huh,” he said, nodding next to her, his eyes straight ahead.

“And, ‘Little Red Corvette’, that’s just a coincidence, right?”

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her shirt, then looked up at him.

“Probably,” he replied quickly.

“Because I’m Inhuman, maybe that’s why it didn’t work on me so fast?”

“Excuse me?” he said, giving her an incredulous look.

“I was trying to get you back on mission, and you just-“

“You put your tongue in my mouth,” he said, standing up.

“Big deal.  It was just some kissing.”

“And I had my hands on your ass,” he said with a sigh, rubbing his face.

“You also said some stuff…at the end there,” she added, hesitantly.

“I know.”

“Which you can totally take back, because I’m sure it was just that guy's powers doing a number on you.”

She watches his eyes move from a spot in the floor slowly up to hers.

Yes, she’s giving him an out, he should take it.  Then they can put all of this behind-

“It wasn’t,” he says, letting out the breath he was holding.  “And, you don’t have to say anything.”

“Okay,” she answered quietly, pressing her lips together as he walked towards the stairs, passing her.

She wrinkles her nose, thinking about how he did something really brave back there.

“Coulson.”

He turns back towards her, and before he can react, she kisses him, holding onto the lapels of his jacket before she loses her own courage.

He’s frozen in place, looking a little shocked.

“Just, we probably shouldn’t run,” she says, meeting his eyes.

His soft smile almost melts her, and he reaches up and touches the pad of his thumb to her chin, and caresses her face with his fingers.

“Okay.”


End file.
